The Boromir Letters
by JustInunotaisho
Summary: As the fellowship blunders its way to Mordor, a certain captain of Gondor writes of their exploits to his brother back home. Nonslash. It is complete at last. Disclaimer: Tolkein's not here to sell it, so...nope, I don't own LOTR
1. First Letter Leaving Rivendell

Dear Faramir,

Well, we were two hours out of Rivendell when we had to turn back due to Peregrin Took, one of the hobbits in our party, forgot his pipe. Gandalf was not pleased and kept grumbling about "a ruin of a good, dramatic exit" and "fool of a Took."

While Pippin ransacked Rivendell, Merry, also known as Meriadoc, began giggling suddenly. When I asked him what he was laughing about, he replied that something had occurred to him. "If we ever want to go into the hero business, our slogan could be 'The Fellowship – If You Are Ever In The Gravest Need, Just Give Us A Ring!""

Frodo and Samwise, the other hobbit, began laughing; Legolas, the Mirkwood elf prince, raised an eyebrow and said, "I beg your pardon?" Gimli the dwarf took that opportunity to make an uncomplimentary dig on the elfish lack of humor. In the ensuing fight, both Gimli and Legolas had headaches from Aragorn son of Arathorn knocking their heads together.

As the search for Pippin's pipe continued, night fell and Gandalf stomped off to the bridge to blow smoke rings grumpily. I, however, decided to ask Aragorn why he had not taken the sword of Elendil when we had first set out.

He grew thoughtful. I offered to glue the pieces of the sword together so he could use it. (You remember, of course, when we retook Osgiliath, the orcs hadn't found the warehouses with the Gondor Gooey Glue. Just before that one soldier accidentally burned the storage houses, I filched a small tube of the stuff.) Aragorn grinned mischievously.

It turned out to be so easy. Gimli got the guards drunk (it turns out elves _do_ snore after all) and Aragorn took the sword shards; I could have sworn that as his fingers grasped the sword hilt, he muttered, "Change his mind, will he? Tell me that Arwen would be better off in the Undying Lands, will he? Let's see how he likes _these_ mushrooms…"

It turned out that Pippin had stowed his pipe in Merry's pack and had forgotten. Gandalf finally calmed down after we took his staff away.

We left rather hurriedly after that.

I must go now. I have been writing this while Gimli was demonstrating to Sam how to cook sausage over open flames rather than in a pan. However, I think it is only a matter of time before Legolas finds out that his arrows have been used for toasting forks.

Your brother,

Boromir


	2. Second Letter Near Hollin

Dear Faramir,

It has been quite a while since I last wrote. Gandalf has been eager to make up for lost time; even now, his eye twitches whenever he hears "pipe" and "Pippin" in the same sentence. We are camping tonight upon a foothill of Caradhras overlooking the lands of old Hollin.

Pippin broke open his stash of Green Dragon Ale he had hidden in his pack. Gandalf grew steadily grumpier and bawled at Gimli to pipe down on his Dwarfish drinking ballads. The dwarf quieted down and began conspiring with Merry to put a snake in Legolas's quiver.

As we marched along, I chatted with Aragorn about the land we traveled through. He knows much about the trees and plants we see. Often, I saw him stoop down and pluck certain herbs. Tasting one he offered, I found it bitter and distasteful. I asked him why he chose such a plant and he grimaced. "I'll explain later. Take two of the stalks for now."

We continued on, occasionally steering the inebriated hobbits and dwarf back onto the path. Fortunately, they had sobered up as we took a break for lunch. However, mischievous Pippin offered Legolas a puff of old Toby. As the credulous elf took a draw, there was a loud POP and the smoke billowed up into Legolas's face, making him cough and turning his face black.

Between laughs and yelps of pain, the hobbit told us that had put a small firework into his pipe. We felt sorry for the elf prince, we assured him as we laughed.

Tired of his sulky mood, Gandalf promised to give us all a special treat when we made camp that night. I distinctly saw Aragorn shudder at this announcement and slip two stalks of the plant to Frodo and two to Sam. My interest grew.

It is nighttime now. I write as I stand guard over the camp.

After dinner, Gandalf, with much ceremony, brought out a fiddle. He tuned it gently. Aragorn caught my eye, gave me a significant look, and stuffed the stalks of the plant into his ears. I followed his example and my hearing was completely cut off. Just then, the wizard began to play and sing. Loudly. His long gray hair actually stood on end, trees bent as if blown by the wind, rocks began to crack, and a swarm of crebain fell out of the sky.

As he finished, I was relieved to see that the rest of the fellowship had put the stalks in their ears. Gandalf stowed his fiddle and looked at us expectantly. I unplugged my ears surreptitiously and nodded in mock-thoughtfulness. "Well done, Mithrandir. Perhaps that can be our battle song…"

He looked confused. "Orcs would flee from my rendition of 'Happy Hobbit Ho-Down?'"

I was spared by a yell from Merry and another from Gimli. They jumped up and frantically spat their beer into the bushes, sputtering and choking. I picked up their dropped mugs and found a live mouse in each. Fishing them out, I set them loose and glanced across the fire. Perhaps it was my imagination, but I noticed a shadow of a grin pass over Legolas's face as he stared down the shaft of an arrow.

Guard duty's over. Time for sleep.

Your brother,

Boromir.


	3. Third Letter Caradhras

Dear Faramir,

Snow, snow, and more bloody snow on Caradhras. I got rather sick of three days of it and of Legolas's smug expression as he sauntered atop the snow in his soft little boots. Still, having to carry a couple of hobbits on one's back had its uses. Pippin managed to pelt Legolas with a few snowballs. The elf got huffy, finally going ahead to scout.

Gimli became popular, using his mining blowtorch to melt a path through the snow. Of course, Gandalf was miffed because it destroyed his pipe rather than lighting it.

Yesterday, as we were struggling up the mountain, we seemed to hear a voice in the howling wind. It sounded as though it were a single drawn out word. Then, the wind would fall silent for about ten seconds, and then repeat.

Behind me, Aragorn snickered in one of the silences and muttered something to Frodo and Samwise, whom he carried on his back. When the sound came again and died, the three of them shouted, "POOOOOOOLOOOOOOOOO!" or something to that effect. It echoed off the mountains for a long time, uninterrupted by the wind noise.

Gandalf was not impressed, screaming at them to shut up. He was one to talk. The next thing we knew, an avalanche rumbled down for a glass of miruvor and a chit-chat. Once we managed to dig ourselves out, we realized we were at the bottom of the mountain again.

Aragorn turned to Gandalf, raising an eyebrow pointedly. "Well? What of my earlier suggestion?"

The wizard sighed. "We cannot know what lurks in the long dark of those deep tunnels, Aragorn."

Silence fell over the group for a moment. Then, Pippin asked, "What's wrong with taking the Underground?"

I tried hard not to laugh as Gandalf rolled his eyes. Patting his cousin on the shoulder condescendingly, Merry laughed. "You don't understand, Pip. It isn't the ride that drives Gandalf insane – it's the constant 'Mind the gap' warnings."

This time, everyone except Gandalf and Pippin laughed.

"I was talking about _Moria_, young hobbits," snipped the wizard in a grouchy voice.

"Oh, I see." Pippin nodded. "Don't worry, Gandalf, I get it now. Just one question."

"Yes?"

"What's 'Ia' and why would I want more of it?"

It's going to be a long trip to the dwarfish kingdom.

I'll write more later.

Your brother,

Boromir

A/N: Read and review. Many thanks to Ranger ari, Mark Solo, Time and Fate, Lorendiac, Laer 4572, Anearin, and grumpy123 for reviewing!


	4. Fourth Letter Entrance to Moria

Dear Faramir,

It has been two hours since we entered Moria and I have yet to find a decent restroom.

When we first arrived, Gandalf took forever finding the entrance. Lucky for him, a conveniently full moon came out behind the clouds and lit up the isilene, revealing the door on the rock face Gandalf just passed. Ignoring the stifled chuckles, the wizard looked at the dwarfish runes and frowned. I asked him what they meant. He ran his hand over each letter as he translated, "P-L-E…A-S-E-U-S-E…O-T-H-E-R-D-O-O…R."

There was silence. Then Pippin spoke up, "Well, that's that. Shall we go back to Rivendell, then? Might make it back in time for bingo night…"

"No!" burst out Frodo, his eyes blazing. "That we must not do!"

"He is right," agreed Legolas. "We cannot allow the ring to survive."

"I was talking about Merry and Pippin always cheating at bingo." We all glared at him. "What? They do!"

The next five minutes were spent trying to pry, shove, hack, or magic open the doors. All attempts halted after Gimli's blowtorch accidentally set Legolas's boots on fire. Our sinking spirits were halted by the sight of the Elf shrieking as he dashed to and fro in utter panic.

He dashed into the nearby lake to put them out. He came out just as fast, a gargantuan octopus creature in pursuit. As we began to fight it, Legolas argued with Gimli over whose fault it was. The battle was going badly and the dwarf had just called him a "melon-head," when a loud grinding noise announced the opening of the entrance.

We all retreated inside and the doors slammed shut behind us. For a moment, all was dark, then Gandalf lit his staff, announcing that there were older and fouler things than orcs in the deep places of the world. I could _see_ the words starting to form on Pippin's lips, the hobbit about to make a wisecrack about "fowler" and "birds." Perhaps the wizard did as well, for he turned and scowled at him, the light from his staff casting ominous shadows on his face. Pippin's gulp was audible and he wisely kept silent.

Oh good. Aragorn's turn for guard duty, now. I'm going to go to sleep and enjoy some time oblivious to Gimli singing drinking songs in his sleep. Dang echoes.

Your brother,

Boromir


	5. Fifth Letter Three Doors In Moria

Dear Faramir,

Wizards are the most aggravating species in the whole of Middle Earth.

Follow. Two days after we were chased into the dry land version of Umbar Joan's Dresser Drawer by that squid on steroids, we found Hall twenty-one and spent a night there. Most of the tourist shops were in utter shambles. Apparently, goblins have a real fetish for t-shirts with "Moria tea, dear. I'm a Deep thinker" on them. For some odd reason, they left the "World's Best Great-Great-Great-Great-Great-Great-Great- Great-Great-Great-Great Elfish Grand-dad" coffee mugs intact. Legolas took one. I bet shipping rates to the Undying Lands are heinous.

We came to a place with three doors. All the signs telling which one went where were covered in goblin graffiti. So, unless "Durtz Blade Hackers" was an actual place in Moria and not a goblin gang name, we didn't have a clue where to go. Gandalf stood there for five minutes straight, chewing on his tongue, a pensive look on his furrowed brow.

The rest of us grew impatient. Rolling his eyes, Aragorn motioned for the rest of us to take it easy. Obviously, we were going to be there for a while as Gandalf tried to remember which door led out.

To pass time, I began to play Twenty Questions with Aragorn. I guessed first. "Is it big?"

"Sometimes," he replied, lighting his pipe.

"Is it solid?"

"No."

"Affected by wind?"

"No."

"Colorful?"

"No."

"Darkness."

He harrumphed around his pipe stem, annoyed by how easily I'd guessed. "I quit. All this dreariness is messing with my imagination."

I sighed. Frodo, by this time, was talking to Gandalf as the wizard sat in front of the doors. I listened to his gentle explanation of how Bilbo's mercy toward the creature Gollum would one day be rewarded and that eagerness to deal out death and judgment was a grave thing.

The young hobbit's voice cracked as he admitted that he wished the ring had not come into the world.

"There are other powers at work in this world besides that of evil. Bilbo was meant to find the ring, just as you were meant to have it and that is an encouraging thought."

Of course, Gandalf's speech might have been more profound if he did not follow it up with an announcement that the right door was the way to go. According to him, it smelled better that way and he remarked, "When in doubt, always follow your nose."

I imagined generations of dead Istari turning in their graves.

More later.

Your brother,

Boromir


	6. Sixth Letter Arrival at Lorien

Dear Faramir,

Lothlorien, the realm of Galadriel, is different than Moria, not surprising when one considers the native population happens to be elves. I have to confess that the 24/7 Latin vocal choir got on my nerves after ten minutes.

Our journey here from Moria was hurried. After we followed Gandalf through the right door, we came to a wide-open hall with immense pillars and a ceiling almost half a mile high. Legolas made the tactless comment of "since dwarves are so short, why are the ceilings so high?" Once we took away Gimli's axe and bandaged the elf's kneecaps, we found a small guardhouse and explored it. There was the usual goblin trash, some mummified corpses, and a white tomb in the center of the room.

Gimli recognized the name on it and began to sob. Ever tactless, a certain elf muttered something about the likelihood of the deceased owing the dwarf money.

Ignoring the ensuing argument, Gandalf gave his hat and staff to Pippin to hold, picked up an old, battered book, and began to read aloud. "'They have taken the bridge and the coffee stall. Ori, already a full day without caffeine, is twitching frequently.'"

I suddenly remembered my own stash of Ithilian Brew was running rather low and began wondering if it would be enough.

The pages crackled as Gandalf flicked through them, reading whatever snatches were legible. "'…lost two dwarves near smithy…food running low…Ori foaming at the mouth…drums, drums in the deep…shave and a haircut over and over…shadow moves in the dark…'"

Just as he said that, a movement out of the corner of my eye made me jump and draw my sword. But, it was only Pippin, trying on Gandalf's hat and striking poses. At the precise moment it slipped down over his eyes, a horde of goblins charged in, we fought them off and managed to avoid Pippin's wild strokes as he swung his sword about blindly.

We got the impression we'd overstayed our welcome and ran down some stairs and across a narrow bridge. In the process, Gandalf's hat got lost. The wizard looked back and saw a huge, fiery beast pick it up and try it on. "Gimme back my hat, you overgrown Zippo lighter!" he bellowed as he bolted back over the bridge. An epic battle ensued, resulting in Gandalf breaking the bridge beneath the monster. It fell into the depths with a despairing roar. For five seconds, the wizard enjoyed a triumphant smirk, then realized his hat was one mile down and falling. With a muttered, "Oh, cah-_RAP_!" he dove after it. "Go on without me!"

The rest of us obeyed. At last, we saw daylight again. Following a brief discussion about where to go, how we'd ever cope without Gandalf, and general insults between Legolas and Gimli over the change of scenery, we made our way to Lorien. In the confusion of our departure, I realized I was without my coffee stash. Must have dropped it somewhere. The fact made me break out in a sweat; already, I started to feel nervous and the sudden appearance of elfish guerillas didn't calm me any.

They took us before Lady Galadriel, who wanted to talk with Gandalf. Aragorn explained. I desperately wanted to ask if they had any fresh coffee. It was then that the elfish queen turned her piercing gaze upon me, capturing my eyes so that I could not look away. A voice in my head said, "Even now, there is hope."

"Yes," I thought. "Perhaps, but is there coffee?"

She looked away. Evidently, I spoiled a dramatic moment.

Dinner was a coffee deficient affair, though the boar turned out to be flavorful, the fruit juicy, and the wine a good vintage. I left the table early, preferring not to join the hobbits and Gimli in adapting drinking song lyrics to the background chorus. As I sat by the stream and bemoaned my lack of caffeine, Aragorn came up, insisting that I get some rest. We began talking about this and that.

"Have you ever seen it, Aragorn? The Tower of Ecthelion glimmering like a spike of pearl and silver, its banners caught high in the morning breeze…" I sighed, thinking of the espressos made in the small café nearby.

"I have seen the White City. Long ago."

"One day, our paths will lead us there and the tower guard will take up the call, 'The Lords of Gondor have returned!'" They might even give out free coffee for such a momentous occasion.

Aragorn didn't look too excited. Probably doesn't like coffee.

Well, I think I shall attempt to sleep. I hope when we leave, we head straight for Minas Tirith. I'll stock up on a few frappacinos, head over to Osgiliath, put my feet up, and plot the invasion of Mordor.

Your Brother,

Boromir.


	7. Seventh Letter Leaving Lorien

Dear Faramir,

On the morning of our departure from Lothlorien, Lady Galadriel gave us many things. I received some good bling – a gold belt. Gimli's gift caused much joking among the rest of us. It turned out he thought Galadriel was the fairest being he had ever seen. She gave him three hairs from her head. Naturally, Legolas later called him a "hair-brained individual," and subsequently dashed off into the woods, yelling at the pursuing dwarf to "keep his hair on."

Aragorn received a special sheath. The lady of Lorien told him no sword drawn from it would be broken. I believed her – before giving it to him, the elves sprinkled it with liberal amounts of anti-athlete's foot powder.

When Frodo received a small phial of glimmering water. Galadriel explained it had been made of water upon which the Elfish star Earendil shone. "We used to make this with moon water and call it 'moon-shine' but certain wizards kept mistaking it for something else and drinking it."

Included in the supplies, several curious cakes were enclosed in green leaf packaging. The word ELFINKYS ran in silver letters across the top of each. Legolas could barely contain himself. "Elfinkys! The Elfish waybread! One small bite is enough to give a 24-hour sugar rush to a grown man!" I took a closer look at Pippin, who was standing next to me and vibrating slightly. "How many did you eat?"

"F-f-f-f-f-f-fourrrrrrr." His teeth chattered so fast I was surprised he didn't bite his own tongue off.

After a prolonged farewell (So long, take care, don't talk to strange orcs with white hands), we boated down the Anduin. Pippin, in his supremely hyperactive state made a contribution toward our progress as a makeshift outboard motor. Though it was fun, Aragorn told us to knock it off after the second time our wake doused his boat.

We're spending the night on the west shore tonight. I'm going through severe caffeine withdrawal. Not even the Elfinkys help. Must…have…coffee…

Your brother,

Boromir


	8. Last Letter Amon Hen

A/N: Thanks to Anearin, Ranger ari, Mark Solo, Lorendiac, grumpy123, Laer4572, Time and Fate, Elflette, SSJKarigan, cookiefleck, keliz2005, Lalaithdil, and Ogreatrandom for reviewing. Enjoy! And especially be thankful because this Inunotaisho was attempting to upload it since last Friday...

Dear Faramir,

I'm not dead yet. Tell that to Aragorn, Legolas, Gimli, and the rest. In a loud voice. Preferably over and over.

Two days after leaving Lorien, we reached the Argonath. We passed under the statues with the outstretched hands, the hobbits, Legolas and Gimli singing "Stop in the Name of Love." Aragorn was not amused That afternoon, we beached our boats near Amon Hen and planned to cross the river at nightfall.

"Then, it's off to Emyn Muil, the bloody winding maze of razor sharp rocks," grumbled Gimli. "I always get lost there."

"If you attached your favorite tankard to your belt better, you would not lose it and get lost searching for it…" muttered Aragorn as he unloaded the boats.

I decided to go gather some firewood to keep my mind off my longing for coffee. Deep in the forest nearby, among the various scattered stoneworks and statues, I found Frodo, drinking from a cup, the distinctive odor of Ithilian Brew filling the air.

He had stolen MY coffee!

I don't remember the next few minutes very well, something about me screaming, "Give it to me!" and tackling him. When I regained my level head, Frodo was nowhere to be seen and the rest of the coffee darkened a patch of ground around the shattered cup, dropped in his hasty retreat. Just the sight was enough to give me the shakes and invite a horde of migraines. A series of clashes and shouts nearby didn't help soothe it. Apparently, our group was discovered.

I managed to find Merry and Pippin. Together, we retreated toward the river, fighting off huge orces. Even in my caffeine-deprived state, I slew about forty. Then, I got shot.

Three bloody arrows. The trick is to deal with the initial pain of the first, then your body goes numb and you don't feel anything else. I'm glad Dad told me to wear my chainmail under my clothes. While I struggled to stay upright, the orcs captured the hobbits. As they were carried off, I collapsed. Aragorn found me in the theroes of severe caffeine deficiency and assumed I was dying. Before I could assure him that I wasn't, I passed out.

I awoke after I don't know how long. I felt better. A wondrous figure, clad in garments of white light stood over the boat I lay in. For such a noble-appearing being, his current expression was rather sheepish. In one hand, he held a golf ball. His first words to me were ones I shall remember for the rest of my life. "Um…sorry about that…"

As I learned later, it turned out his golf ball accidentally hit me and he thought it killed me. So, he healed me and offered to let me stay in the Undying Lands.

"Got any coffee?" I asked.

"Yeah, Earendil runs this nice little joint called Lummenrohan."

"Oh good, but can I come back later? I have some unfinished business…" I was thinking of a certain hobbit in need of a thrashing, ringbearer or no.

"No problem, but you need to get your hand stamped first. Also, there are no boats to Middle Earth, now. However, we should be receiving another shipment of elves pretty soon – you can take one of their boats back."

Given that life remained mine and coffee looked to be a real possibility in the near future, I didn't complain.

I shudder to think what my other letters are going through, right now. Gimli might use them to start a fire. I don't have much hope for Aragorn, either, given that he put me in a funeral boat while I was still alive. That bloody Argonath waterfall ruined my sheath, by the way, so you can tell him I'll send him the bill.

I must go. Fanuilos and I are playing 72 holes this afternoon.

Your brother,

Boromir.

A/N: Roses are red, and sometimes are blue, this is the last, so read and review!


	9. Author's Note

Dear Friend,

If you have read this far and laughed at all the stupidity and hilarity in my story, congratulations. If you haven't already, check out my new story Dear Dad: the Gimli Letters.

Thanks,

Inunotaisho


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